Sebastian stared at the remaining pedestals for one long second before slowly turning back toward the others.
"Alright," he said calmly, flexing his wounded shoulder once. "New plan."
Yarvik immediately pointed at the pedestals. "Please tell me the new plan involves not touching cursed ancient elf rocks anymore."
"It does."
The dwarf placed a hand over his chest dramatically. "Praise every dwarven god still willing to listen."
Seb ignored him and nodded toward the corridor behind them.
"Stand behind me. Keep your heads low and take cover."
Lune narrowed her eyes slightly. "Seb… what exactly are you about to do?"
A faint orange glow spread beneath the skin of his right arm.
The answer came before the explanation.
"Something much simpler."
Flames ignited around his hand, swirling around his fingers, the temperature in the chamber rose instantly. Ancient dust lifted from the floor in tiny spirals.
Faelorn's expression tightened.
"Seb…"
"Cover."
That single word was enough that none of them argued, they moved back immediately behind broken stone columns near the room entrance while Seb stepped forward alone toward the dead end wall beyond the pedestals.
The fire around his arm deepened from orange to blinding gold.
Then he clenched his fist, the ruin trembled.
For a brief instant the flames gathered in the shape of something colossal, a gigantic burning arm forming from pure fire and heat, its outline flickering against the dark chamber walls like a wrathful flame spirit.
Yarvik peeked around the column.
"…Mother of whores.."
Sebastian thrust his hand forward.
The gigantic fire fist moved with him and it slammed into the wall with apocalyptic force.
The explosion deafened the chamber, stone shattered outward instantly as if struck by a dragon's breath. Ancient elven masonry disintegrated beneath the impact while the massive fire fist kept driving forward through the ruin, punching deeper and deeper into the rock beyond, tearing through walls, corridors, and buried structures in a chain of fiery destruction.
The entire chamber shook violently and heat roared through the ruins like a storm as chunks of stone rained from above while smoke flooded the air.
Lune coughed immediately, covering her mouth. Faelorn staggered slightly as dust blasted across his face. Yarvik simply stared with his jaw hanging open.
"…That," the dwarf wheezed between coughs, "was the greatest thing I've ever seen!"
Sebastian rolled his shoulder casually while smoke curled from his fingertips.
"I should've done that from the start.."
Yarvik barked out a laugh loud enough to echo through the chamber.
"Damn right you should have!"
Even Faelorn let out a disbelieving breath as he looked toward the destroyed wall.
"You keep doing things that should not be possible.." the elf muttered.
Seb only shrugged.
"Path's clear. Let's move."
The four of them stepped through the devastation carefully.
The newly carved passage stretched far deeper than any of them expected, the remains of shattered stone glowing faintly red from residual heat. They walked in silence for a while, boots crunching across rubble and broken stone while the air gradually cooled around them.
Then the corridor widened, and widened again.
Until suddenly it opened completely.
All four of them stopped.
Before them lay an underground elven city.
Not ruins in the simple sense of collapsed walls and forgotten chambers. This had once been a clearly a living place of elves. Towers rose from the darkness below them, broken bridges hanging between ancient structures swallowed by shadow. Cracked domes and elegant arches stretched endlessly into the cavernous depths while entire streets disappeared beneath darkness too thick for the eye to follow.
It was enormous.
Ancient elven braziers lined portions of the pathways, long dead for centuries.
Sebastian walked toward one silently and ignited it with his own flames, and it burst to life.
Then another and another.
Golden fire spread across portions of the city, illuminating fragments of breathtaking architecture buried beneath ages of abandonment.
Lune inhaled sharply.
"…By the stars…"
Yarvik slowly removed his helmet.
"A city," he whispered. "An entire bloody city…"
Faelorn stood motionless.
The firelight reflected in his eyes while he stared at the endless remains of what his people had once built. For the first time since Seb met him, the Scoia'tael commander looked genuinely speechless.
Not angry or bitter.
Sebastian looked over the city with quiet awe.
"Wow," he said softly. "This place is massive…"
Faelorn finally spoke, "Our ancestors built wonders beneath mountains while humans were still living in mud and wood."
There was pride in it, but grief too.
A terrible amount of grief.
Then Sebastian's expression changed, subtly.
His head tilted slightly, the others noticed immediately.
Faelorn's hand moved toward his weapon. "What is it?"
Sebastian listened carefully, at first they heard nothing.
Then, a distant shriek echoed somewhere in this city.
Sebastian's eyes narrowed.
"I don't like what I'm hearing."
Lune instinctively moved closer to the others. "What? I can't hear a thing.."
"Wraiths," Seb answered quietly. "Several of them."
Yarvik groaned immediately. "Of course there are bloody wraiths.."
Faelorn muttered a curse under his breath. "Shit…"
The sounds came again.
This time closer.
Ghostly whispers drifting through the dead streets below them.
Sebastian slowly drew his silver sword, the blade hissed softly as it left the scabbard, reflecting the brazier light in pale silver lines.
"I'll deal with them."
Faelorn immediately looked toward the deeper city paths.
"Our priority remains finding an exit," he said firmly. "One far from this forest. Far from Redania if possible."
Seb nodded once.
"I know."
His eyes remained fixed on the darkness ahead.
Though his tone stayed calm, something about him shifted the moment the word wraiths entered the conversation. The easy humor disappeared. The casual smiles vanished.
Now he looked like what he truly was.
A witcher standing before monsters in the dark.
"I don't think this place ends anytime soon," he murmured while distant spectral cries echoed through the underground city. "But one way or another… we'll get your people out."
The deeper they moved into the underground city, the more the silence began to feel unnatural.
As if they were being watched.
Their footsteps echoed through streets that had not heard living voices in centuries. Ancient elven statues loomed overhead like dead giants frozen in time. the braziers Sebastian ignited one by one along the way did little to comfort the place.
If anything, the fire only revealed how enormous the ruins truly were.
And how empty it was.
A cold breeze swept through the avenue they were crossing.
Sebastian stopped walking instantly and his silver sword lowered slightly beside him as his eyes narrowed toward the darkness ahead.
"They know we're here," he said quietly.
Yarvik frowned beneath his beard. "Who?"
Seb's gaze shifted upward.
"These things knew the moment we stepped foot in this city."
As if answering him, a scream echoed through the ruins.
Lune's hand tightened around her bow immediately. "Gods preserve us…"
Faelorn slowly drew his blade, eyes scanning the streets around them. "How many?"
Sebastian listened, another shriek answered from somewhere above them.
Then another behind, and another farther away.
His jaw tightened slightly.
"…Possibly five."
The temperature dropped so suddenly that their breath became visible.
The shadows between the ancient structures began to move, shapes emerged slowly from the darkness ahead, floating figures draped in torn spectral cloth, their forms flickering between transparent mist and decayed flesh. Hollow faces stretched unnaturally beneath empty glowing eyes while their screams echoed through the underground city like mourning cries.
Wraiths. An entire group of them.
Yarvik cursed immediately. "Oh, wonderful. Ancient dead elves! That's exactly what my day was missing!"
One of the specters attacked without warning.
Sebastian moved first, his silver sword flashed upward in a clean diagonal arc that split the wraith through the chest before it could even reach him. Spectral energy exploded outward in a burst of pale mist and screaming light.
The second came from above, Seb pivoted beneath it, cloak twisting around him as he drove his blade backward without even looking. The silver edge pierced straight through the specter's skull.
A howl erupted across the ruins.
Wraiths poured from the broken alleyways, the underground city itself seemed to vomit its dead at them.
"Stay close!" Seb shouted.
A specter dove toward Lune.
An arrow from her bow pierced through its face a split second before Sebastian appeared beside it and removed its head completely with a horizontal slash burning faintly with orange flame.
The silver blade hissed through the air.
Another wraith clawed toward Faelorn.
The Scoia'tael commander met it head-on, his sword cutting through the apparition while ducking beneath another strike aimed for his throat.
"Left!" Seb warned.
Faelorn reacted instantly but he wasn't fast enough, ghostly claws tore across his side before Sebastian crashed into the specter with a flaming Aard blast.
Faelorn staggered.
Lune immediately rushed toward him. "Commander!"
"I'm fine," he hissed through clenched teeth.
Blood darkened his side despite the bravado.
"Commander.."
"I said I'm fine, focus on surviving idiot!"
Another wraith shrieked behind them.
Sebastian intercepted it before anyone else could move.
The fight became chaos after that, But Sebastian didn't feel like it was chaotic, because Witchers were made specifically for nights like this.
One wraith attacked low, Seb stepped over it and drove his sword down through its spine.
Another appeared behind him, he spun instantly, flames bursting from his free hand as a higher form of Igni consumed the specter's upper body in brilliant orange fire.
Three more descended together from a broken bridge overhead.
Yarvik looked up.
"…Ah, piss off!"
Sebastian blurred forward.
The first lost its arm.
The second its head.
The third managed to slash across his chest, only for its claws to pass harmlessly through flickering flame as Seb's body briefly lost physical form.
The wraith barely had time to scream before Sebastian's sword tore upward through its jaw.
Faelorn watched part of the exchange while pressing a hand against his wound.
Even injured, the elf looked disturbed.
Not by the monsters. By Sebastian.
Because the witcher no longer looked human beneath the brazier light.
The fire reflecting across his body, the impossible movements, the way silver and flame danced together through the darkness. He looked like some ancient spirit of vengeance carved into life.
And he could almost fear that the wraiths feared the witcher. That was the strangest part.
The creatures still attacked, but no longer mindlessly.
Now they hesitated, circling him.
Shrieking from a distance.
"They seem to recognize danger," Faelorn muttered.
Then one particularly large specter emerged from the center avenue.
Unlike the others, this one still wore fragments of ancient elven armor across its translucent body. A dead commander perhaps. Its face was stretched horribly beneath a cracked ceremonial helm.
It screamed directly at Sebastian.
The force of it shook dust from nearby buildings.
Yarvik covered his ears. "Gods damn that noise!"
The armored wraith charged.
Sebastian met it halfway.
Silver collided against spectral claws in an explosion of sparks and ghostly energy. The impact cracked the stone beneath Seb's boots, but he didn't yield an inch.
/-\
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